


Unravel

by RainbowRiddler



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F, Kind of Character death but not really, Nightmares, Post Noire Missile Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowRiddler/pseuds/RainbowRiddler
Summary: After the Noire Missile Crisis, Diana finds herself having nightmares of Akko falling...





	1. Chapter 1

The dream always begins the same way:  Diana is completely upended by the missile slamming full-force into her side, and knocked off her broom.

She falls, shrieking in terror until she thinks to reach for her wand and slow her descent.  Only…it’s not there…

She curses.  She must have knocked it loose when she haphazardly shoved the Shiny Rod behind her belt.

 _The rod!_   But that, too, is missing, and a quick glance upward shows that it must have fallen away when the missile rammed her.

Diana grits her teeth, screws her eyes shut…  If this is how she’s going to die, then she might as well meet her fate with some dignity.

Though…

There is a small part of her that almost expects Akko to catch her…

But she doesn’t.

In fact, when Diana breaks through the clouds, she realizes somewhere in the back of her mind that the Shooting Star hasn’t come to their rescue at all.  Instead, Akko is still falling quite a distance below her.

Suddenly, everything feels twisted—like walls are closing in around her even though she’s falling through the open expanse of the sky.  A weight settles on her lungs, and her breath comes in short, ragged gasps as tears sting at her eyes.

She shouts for Akko, doubting that she’ll even hear with the wind whipping around them.

But if Akko still has her wand, by some miracle…

Even if it’s just a small hope…

Diana shouts for Akko again.  Tries to shout a cushioning spell to her, but the wind in their ears drowns her out.

She tries again.

And again…

But Akko never hears her…

Tearful, and calling out so forcefully that it feels like her throat is tearing itself apart, Diana prays for a miracle.

The ground closes in on them, and she prays for Akko to defy all odds and just _cast the spell_.

“Just cast the spell,” she begs.

_Please, just cast the spell!_

…She doesn’t, and Diana can only watch, helpless and horrified, as Akko hits the ground, hard.

She feels the burn in her chest before she realizes she’s screaming.  A horrible, anguished cry that rips through her entire being until…

Trembling, Diana releases her white-knuckled grip on the blankets.

It doesn’t quite click that she’s in her dorm until Hannah appears at her bedside, Barbara standing concernedly off to the side.  She’s still a little shell-shocked when Hannah takes her hands and asks her…something…  She can’t focus on the words.  Isn’t sure what she’s asking.

“Diana!” Hannah tries again, this time with a hand on her cheek to direct her gaze.  “What happened?”

Still shaking like a leaf in a bad storm, she brushes Hannah’s hands away and presses the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to assure herself that it had all been a dream.  That there’s nothing to worry about, and that Akko is _safe_ and wholly well in her own dorm…

But even the knowledge that it hadn’t really happened isn’t enough to erase the vivid dream from her mind. Even awake, she is constantly assaulted by the image of Akko’s broken body, motionless on the ground before her…

...It’s too much, and, again, Diana clutches at the blanket, drawing her knees close and folding in on herself.  But it isn’t until Hannah and Barbara both move in to hold her that the tears fall...


	2. Chapter 2

Diana only spends a handful of minutes crying in the arms of her roommates, eventually excusing herself with claims of needing some air.  Such a small lie, but she can’t help the guilt that comes from not wishing to confide in Hannah and Barbara.  It’s nothing against them, of course.  She just needs a bit of space.

Just a bit of time to herself to sort out her nerves…

To that end, she wanders the halls, aimless as she pads along in her bare feet.  Her breath is short and ragged, coming in gasps as she fights the tears threatening to take her again.  She grits her teeth against the feeling, growling to herself that it had all been a dream.  Then, the image of Akko, broken and dead below her flits into her mind once again, and she has to lean against the wall of the corridor to suppress the sick feeling in her stomach.

“It was a dream,” Diana tells herself, desperately.

That same cold sweat beads along her neck and back as she forces herself to breathe through the tightness in her chest.  Her mouth waters unpleasantly as she forces her way through the overwhelming nausea stemming from the memory of the dream.

“Just a dream,” she whispers, on the verge of tears once more…

Then, with a deep, shaking breath, Diana turns her eyes heavenward—almost as if seeking the strength to put a cap on the emotion she’s feeling—and carries on down the hallway.

 

* * *

 

By the time Finneran finds her, she’s made her way to the edges of the courtyard, sitting against the stone wall, with her knees to her chest, as snow blows into the open corridor to tickle at her bare feet.  She should be freezing, she knows, but even as underdressed as she is for the winter weather she can’t seem to feel the bite of the chill.

She wishes she could, if only to drag her thoughts away from the images in her mind…

She doesn’t move as Finneran fusses over her, brushing the snow away and casting a warming charm that made the tips of her fingers and toes tingle.  She doesn’t respond when Finneran asks why she’s sitting out in the snow like this.  And she doesn’t budge when Finneran suggests she return to her room to warm up and rest.

Then, something in her professor’s demeanor changes, though Diana still doesn’t make any attempt to acknowledge the woman.  Even when Finneran slowly rests herself on the ground beside her, Diana stares resolutely forward into the snow.

For a time, they simply sit together, almost as if Finneran is allowing Diana to find a silent comfort in her company.  Then, after a short while, she speaks, her voice soft and coaxing as she tells Diana, “Sometimes, when the weight of our burdens is too great, it can be helpful to speak them aloud…”

The invitation dangles between them for a long while, and Finneran makes no indication that she means to press the issue.  Instead, she waits, watching the snowfall on the courtyard just as Diana does.

Then, Diana mutters, “I’ve been having nightmares about it…”  She waits for the rationalizations from her professor—the assurances of _it’s only natural_ and _it should never have fallen to you_ —but they never come.  She’s appreciative of Finneran’s patience, and even more appreciative of the comfort she finds in not being written off so easily.  “One minute, I’m fighting to get to her, and the next, I’m falling,” she confides quietly.

That was the way it had happened, of course.  The turning point her nightmares so loved to focus on…

The falling.

And falling.

And falling…

“The shooting star never saves us,” she confesses.  “She doesn’t catch me…  We just keep falling until I see her hit the ground and die…”  Her voice is heavy.  Thick, even to her own ears, and there is no fighting off the tears this time.

There is a moment, and then Diana feels herself wrapped in an embrace as Finneran hauls her close against her side.  And, though not typically comfortable with the vulnerability involved in taking comfort from someone else, Diana allows herself to be held, clutching at the sleeves of Finneran’s uniform as she cries.

It’s an ugly thing, all stuttered breath and hiccups and pathetic little whines as she tries to get a handle on her emotions.  And Finneran holds her through it all, rocking ever-so-gently from side to side, and rubbing her arms and back, and whispering a series of little hushing sounds against the top of her head.

There’s a tenderness there that Diana never would have expected.  A feeling of intimacy and caring that she never would have asked of any of her professors, but finds herself taking heart in, nonetheless.


	3. Chapter 3

A short while later, Diana is stirred by two firm pats to her shoulder, and it takes her mind a few moments to catch up with the fact that she’d been dozing against Professor Finneran’s side.  In all honesty, she can’t even remember when she’d stopped crying, let alone when she’d fallen asleep, and the realization brings a vague sense of shame that is only subverted by Finneran whispering, “There, now,” and nudging her until she sits up.

She should apologize for imposing on Professor Finneran’s time, she knows, but all she can seem to manage is a handful of deep breaths, and a shiver from the cold now seeping into her bones.  Strangely, though, her discomfort feels like a far-off sensation, as does her interest in Professor Finneran’s well-being when the woman rises with a chorus of pops and cracks from her back and knees.

“Now, then,” her professor says, brushing a bit of snow from her legs.  “We both ought to be getting to where we belong.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Diana mumbles as she pulls herself from the ground.  She’s surprised to find she feels a touch dizzy, at first, but the sensation passes as Finneran helps to steady her.

“That said,” Professor Finneran begins, helping to dust snow from her sleeves and hair, “It might interest you to know that I ran into Miss Kagari a short while ago.  I doubt she’s asleep.”  She doesn’t answer Diana’s unspoken question—all surprise and confusion—with anything more than a significant look and a pat to her cheek.

Then, with a final, “Good night, Diana,” she sweeps down the hall, her footfalls eerily silent as she disappears around the corner and leaves Diana to find her own answers.

Diana, for her part, lingers only a short while longer, considering the merits of following Professor Finneran’s not-so-subtle advice.  More accurately, she stands about, hesitant, and frets over how she might be met, showing up at Akko’s dorm in the middle of the night.

Although…she knows Akko would never let such notions deter her, were their positions reversed.  She’d barreled head-first into enough of her business for her to know _that_ beyond any shadow of a doubt.

And even Lotte and Sucy had come to her for help late in the evening when Akko had been missing…so, surely, she wouldn’t be too out of line showing up so late at night...

“Of course, not,” Diana urges herself aloud, giving herself a mental shake and taking her first, uncertain steps forward.

 

* * *

 

 

Soon enough, she finds herself standing in front of red team’s dorm, and her nerves are no better than they were near the courtyard, her mind still preoccupied with the impropriety of it all.

To be calling on Akko so late at night…  And in her night clothes, no less—without even her dressing gown for modesty…

It’s an egregiously terrible plan, really, but it’s a plan she told herself she would see through…  And so, Diana lifts her hand and plants three soft raps upon the door, almost wincing at the way the sound seems to echo endlessly through the halls.

The echo fades before she hears the rattle of someone turning the doorknob, and her stomach leaps in anticipation—or maybe relief—the sensation effectively squashing any passing hope she’d had of not waking Akko if she’d actually gone back to sleep.

When the door finally cracks open, the face that peers through is undoubtedly Akko’s, her eyes widening in surprise (and maybe a little bit of alarm) when she sees Diana standing there.  Momentarily dumbstruck, she opens the door a little more.  A startled, “Diana!” is what squeaks out when she finally finds her voice—and perhaps a little more loudly than she’d intended.  Immediately, she clamps her hands over her mouth, the comforter she’d had clutched around her shoulders falling rather unceremoniously to the floor.

Further inside, Diana hears Lotte stir, a sleepy hum softly calling out to Akko.  “Who’s at the door?” she asks, Diana just able to make out the mess of bedhead being lifted slightly off a pillow on the top bunk.

“Nobody,” Akko covers quickly.  She ducks to the floor to retrieve her fallen blanket, and tells Lotte in a slightly softer voice, “Go back to sleep.”

There are no arguments from Lotte—only the rustling sounds of her settling back into bed.  Akko looks back at her for only a moment, as though to assure herself that she had indeed gone back to sleep, and then quietly steps out into the hall with Diana.

“It’s so late,” she comments, remembering to keep her voice low this time as she silently closes the door.  “What are you doing here?”

Diana doesn’t answer, the words caught somewhere within her.

_A nightmare_ , she internally berates herself, disgusted that she should be so influenced by something so simple.  What would this bold and brazen girl think of her for that…

She barely hears Akko calling her name.  Really, it’s the tap on her wrist that draws her attention back to Akko, and to eyes wide with worry.  “Hey,” she whispers.  “You okay?”

Diana wants so badly to say _yes_.  To put on her usual airs and pretend like nothing is wrong…

But to explain it all away as nothing…

“No,” she finally confides, tears already stinging at her eyes with the admission.  “I’m sorry.  I just needed to see that you’re all right.”

Surprise is the first thing that flits across Akko’s face, but her expression instantly warms as she reaches to grasp Diana’s wrist.  “Hey, that’s okay.  Me too, actually…”  She gestures to the floor near the door with a fistful of blanket, “Sit with me?”

Diana can only nod, not especially trusting of her voice, and allows Akko a moment to arrange the blanket before being guided down upon it.

As used to such treatment as she is, it almost feels foreign to have Akko fussing over her and tucking blankets around the both of them.

“It’s so cold out,” comments Akko.  “Don’t you have any slippers?”

It feels silly to admit she’d forgotten them—that all she could think of at the time was getting away from something completely intangible—and so all Diana offers is a noncommittal hum.

Akko doesn’t miss the avoidance.  “Jeez…” she mutters, making doubly sure that Diana’s feet are appropriately cocooned and that not a bit of skin touches the chilled castle floor.  “You really need to be more careful.  You’ll catch a cold.”

All Diana can manage is an apology.  Just a feeble, half-hearted thing as she allows Akko to settle closer to her and pull the edge of the blanket to their shoulders.

It isn’t until the warmth Akko provides, all snug against her side, truly begins to seep into her own body that Diana realizes just how cold she is—how very weary she feels straight down to her bones…  And somewhere through the fog of that realization, she hears Akko ask her, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She spends a moment staring at the stone tile.  “Akko,” she begins before she’s really grasped the thought.  “Would you call us friends?”

It’s not at all what she’d meant to ask, if she’d truly meant to ask anything.  And while Diana finds herself hoping she hasn’t offended Akko, she also finds that she is anxious to hear the answer.

“Well…yeah,” Akko whispers to her, haltingly, clearly confused.  “Of course.”

_Of course_ …

For whatever reason, the affirmation makes her heart squeeze uncomfortably in her chest, and all she can think to say is, “Why?”  But Akko doesn’t understand.  Can’t understand, due to the very nature of her character itself.  The way she throws herself headlong into all things… of course, she wouldn’t think twice about her answer.

“I’m sorry,” Diana amends after a moment.  “What I meant to ask was:  When did that change?”

This time, Akko takes her hand beneath the blanket and gives it a reassuring squeeze.  “I’m not really sure.  Does it matter?”

_Does it?_ Diana wonders.  Regardless, she’s having nightmares.  And, regardless, Akko is here with her now, doing her best to be gently supportive.  “I suppose not,” she concedes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Akko tries once more, reminding Diana that the invitation still stands.

“Just…sit with me for a while?”

“All right.”


End file.
